It was a rainy May evening. Von Kaiser and Dingo Bone were coming out of a match. Von Kaiser had won, and Dingo Bone was feeling quite bitter about it.
"Oi!" Dingo Bone confronted Von Kaiser in the locker room. "Ye think yer real hot stuff, don'tcha?"
Von Kaiser and Joe looked up. Von Kaiser stood up. "Ich habe gewonnen, du hast verloren. Einfach." (I won, you lost. Simple.)
"Yeah, ya big yutz, ya like to act like yer tough, but I bet I could snap you in half!" Dingo Bone got close and personal with Von Kaiser.
Joe tried to mediate. "Doucement, tout le monde, on ne besoin pas de bagarre." (Easy, everyone, we don't need to fight.) He felt his chest getting a bit tight.
"Piss off, stick boy, this ain't about you!" Dingo Bone pushed Joe away. Joe slipped and fell, hitting his arm on the bench as he hit the floor. Dingo Bone then continued to tear into Von Kaiser. "Yeah, you're probably too scared to fight me like a real man!"
"Mir gefällt nicht, wie Sie mit mir sprechen." (I don't like the way you're speaking to me.) Von Kaiser gave Dingo Bone a stern look.
Dingo Bone shoved Von Kaiser. "Come on, do it, wimp!"
"S'il vous plait, arrête!" Joe cried. (Please, stop!) He could only watch, holding his sore arm, as the two fought.
"Fassen Sie mich nicht an!" (Don't touch me!) Von Kaiser glared at Dingo Bone. Dingo Bone went for another push, which Von Kaiser intercepted. The two began to bicker harshly.
Joe could feel every part of him shaking. Oh mon Dieu. Oh mon Dieu. Everything was so loud. Everything was screaming. He felt dizzy. He felt sick. Why was this happening?!
It was all too much.
And so Joe pulled his knees in and just cried.
Von Kaiser noticed, and wrestled Dingo Bone away to sit with him. "Hey...das war nicht deine Schuld." (Hey…this wasn't your fault.) He held Joe and rubbed his back.
Dingo Bone stormed out of the locker room, and not long after, Katrina came in, having escaped the children's room looking for her father. "Daddy?"
"S'il vous plaît, juste va-t'en…" He sobbed. (Please, just go away...)
Katrina was conflicted, and a little scared. Daddy was always there for her when she cried, so why didn't he want her to be there for him now that he's crying?
Von Kaiser helped Joe up from the floor. "Komm, ich bringe dich nach Hause." (Come on, I'll take you home.)
A bit later, Von Kaiser and the Beauforts arrived home. Von Kaiser sat Joe on the couch and went to start dinner. Katrina crawled up into her father's lap, and Joe held her tight. "Why were you crying, Daddy?"
"Je ne sais pas…" Joe shook his head. "Je suppose que la situation était trop grave pour que mon cerveau s'occupe." (I don't know…I think the situation was too much for my brain to process.)
Joe quietly cuddled his daughter until Von Kaiser gestured for them to come eat. He had made them hot vegetable soup. The three sat down together to eat.
"Joseph," said Von Kaiser, "mir ist aufgefallen, dass du seit einiger Zeit sehr ängstlich bist." (Joseph, I've noticed that you've been very anxious for a while now.) He put a hand on his shoulder. "Soll ich Sie mit einem Therapeuten verbinden?" (Would you like me to find you a therapist?)
Joe was quiet for a moment. He had never really thought about therapy before, but maybe it could do him some good. He nodded.
"What's a therapist?" Katrina cocked her head.
"Es ist wie ein Geistesdoktor," said Von Kaiser. (It's like a mind doctor.)
Later that night, after Katrina had gone off to bed, Von Kaiser sat with Joe as he laid in bed and held his hand, hoping to ease his nerves before he went to sleep.
"Nicht weit von hier ist eine Klinik," he said softly. "Ich werde morgen früh jemanden für dich einplanen." (We're not too far from a clinic. I'll schedule someone for you first thing tomorrow morning.)
Joe smiled warmly. "Je suis vraiment reconnaissant pour toutes les choses que tu fais pour moi. Tu es une vraie bénédiction." (I'm very grateful for everything you do for me. You're a true godsend.) His eyelids drooped, so Von Kaiser shut the lights off and went downstairs to lie down in the guest bed.
On Monday morning, after dropping Katrina off at school, Joe arrived at the mental health clinic that Von Kaiser had referred him to. After a moment in the waiting room, he went in to meet his new therapist.
"Hallo, Joseph. My naam is Abina." Abina shook his hand and gestured for him to sit down. "Daar is vir my gesê jy sukkel met angs." (I've been told you are struggling with anxiety.)
"Oui," said Joe shyly.
"Goed, kom ons begin." (Alright, let's get started.) Abina tapped her pencil on her clipboard. "Waaroor is jy geneig om baie bekommerd te wees?" (What do you tend to worry about a lot?)
"Ma fille," said Joe. "J'ai des soucis à propos de sa santé, son bonheur, ses affaires de l'école…" He trailed off and sighed. (My daughter. I worry about her health, her happiness, her school issues…)
Abina nodded. "Vertel my van jou dogter." (Tell me about your daughter.)
Joe opened up a bit more. "Elle a six ans maintenant. Elle a un couple d'amis, elle aime son école. Elle est vraiment excitée pour commencer la deuxième année en septembre." (She's six now. She has a couple of friends, she likes school. She's very excited to start Grade 2 in September.)
"Ek kan sê jy is baie lief vir haar," said Abina. (I can tell you love her very much.) She adjusted herself in her seat. "Dit is dus duidelijk dat dit goed is vir jou geestesgezondheid om tyd saam met jou dogter deur te bring." (So, evidently spending time with your daughter is good for your mental health.)
Joe nodded. That made perfect sense to him.
"Ek wil egter hê jy moet let op hoeveel jy op haar staatmaak," continued Abina. "Jou dogter is nie jou terapeut nie, ek is." (However, I want you to pay attention to how much you rely on her. Your daughter is not your therapist, I am.)
That made sense too. "D'accord," said Joe.
Abina smiled. "Ek is bly jy is so samenwerkend." (I'm glad you're so cooperative.)
